


Wheeling Through an Endless Fog (Or, 25 Sentences About Juliantina)

by wydville (lullabystander)



Category: Amar a Muerte, Amar a Muerte (TV), Juliantina - Fandom
Genre: Amar a Muerte - Freeform, F/F, Juliana Valdes/Valentina Carvajal - Freeform, Juliantina, One Word Prompts, Valentina Carvajal/Juliana Valdés - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 20:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17753279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lullabystander/pseuds/wydville
Summary: “Valentina looks at Juliana like she cradles the sun itself in the palm of her hand, as if she alone gives life and light to everything in the world...” Romance and angst.





	Wheeling Through an Endless Fog (Or, 25 Sentences About Juliantina)

**Author's Note:**

> As I don’t know which direction the show will take, many of these sentences are speculative re: a potential Juliantina future. Also they are not in any particular order. Read on for drabbly-sentence goodness where-in I greatly abuse grammar and punctuation. I would love to write a full fic for this beautiful ship but I lack the time and so I hope these “snapshots” will suffice. Prompts taken from 1Sentence Challenge community on Livejournal.
> 
> Title from “No One’s Gonna Love You” by Band of Horses
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters are not my property, I’m just borrowing them. Thanks Televisa!
> 
> Drop a comment and be merry! :)

#29 **Melody**

Valentina knows the steps; she has been practicing, driving Chivis crazy with that one song on rotation for hours on end, but the moment Juliana is back in her arms, smiling and waiting for evidence of Valentina’s dedication, Valentina loses all sense of rhythm, going deaf and dumb to everything but the hands gently cradling her hips and the soft mouth inches from her own, stumbling over her own traitorous feet like Bambi on ice.

 

#09 **Telephone**

Juliana’s eyes drift open, heavy and bemused with disturbed sleep; she blinks, finds herself the focus of Valentina’s cellphone - “Oh Val, not again!” she groans, folding the pillow over her face, but she smiles despite herself because Valentina giggles adorably, snapping another picture for good measure as she justifies this increasingly out-of-control habit with typical Val charm: “I can’t help it, you’re too beautiful when you sleep.”

 

#50 **Supernova**

Once upon a time, Valentina had been desperately disappointed with sex, always longing for fireworks, trying almost anything - from positions to pills - to see them, to feel the sparks and shivers the media always waxes poetic about, but she was always left cold and wanting and wondering at all the fuss, feeling as if she was doing it wrong or lacking some vital biological function necessary for pleasure - but all of the disappointment and insecurities disappeared when Juliana fell into her life and her bed; because when she makes love with Juliana, lost in her dizzying warmth and attention and tenderness - and her skin, her _beautiful_ skin, softer than silk itself - she has not only _all_ the fireworks, but lightning and shooting stars and champagne supernovas, as beautiful and explosive as she has ever dared to dream.

 

#45 **Hell**

Sometimes Valentina dreams of those first months when the whole world was against her loving Juliana, from Eva and Lucho to Juliana’s mother, all bitterness and accusations and unable to understand, unwilling to accept, and she wakes in a cold sweat, hand clutched to her pounding heart, but then, even in sleep, Juliana reaches for her, comforts her, and Valentina is grateful, so grateful, to the tender roots of her deeply love-consumed soul, that those hellish days are long gone.

 

#11 **Name**

“Really?” Valentina asks, carefully searching Juliana’s face for the slightest hint, the tiniest sign that she doesn’t want to go through with it, because, well, just because _she_ wants Juliana’s name inked on her wrist doesn’t mean Juliana has to get _her_ name in turn (even though the idea makes Valentina indescribably giddy), “because it’s going to hurt, you know, and you might hate me, I don’t want you to hate me - ” and Juliana puts a finger to Valentina’s lips to hush her, soothing her with a playful smile: “Val, I _literally_ ran through bullets for you, hm? I think I can handle getting a tattoo.”

 

#14 **Sex**

Flushed and sweat-slick, Juliana pushes Valentina away - not far, god no, just enough to comfortably suck some much-needed oxygen into her labouring lungs - and shakes her head, dumbfounded and numb-toed and asking herself how? _how_ , sweet Jesus, _how_ does the sex just keep getting better and better?

 

#17 **Tears**

“No more tears, hm?” Juliana murmurs, tenderly kissing Valentina’s brow, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, willing away the pain of the argument, such a _stupid_ argument, about something she cannot even remember right now with Val so upset in her arms; “Relax, _mi_ _amor_. We’re good, I promise. We’re okay. Everything is okay.”

 

#16 **Weakness**

Eva fixes Juliana with those glacial eyes, but there is nothing cold in them anymore, neither judgement nor distaste, only gratitude and understanding, even a gleam of good humour as she sighs, “I really was wrong about you, wasn’t I? Well my baby sister always did have a weakness for fairytale endings and it seems she’s found hers with you - even if I _was_ a wicked witch at the beginning of your story.”

 

#38 **Gift**

Even after Juliana’s designs have become famous (with glamorous women modelling them everywhere, in glossy magazines and on red carpets) Valentina treasures above all of her girlfriend’s creations (of which many Valentina herself has inspired, simply being Valentina) the first top she designed and made especially for her, the beautiful shimmering silver number she wore to her brother’s birthday party; she will adore and keep it forever, she thinks, even when it is falling apart at the seams, even when time and the elements turn it to rags, because to her it is priceless.

 

#10 **Ears**

Juliana’s effect on Valentina is crazy, whether she is kissing her wetly between her thighs or tenderly nuzzling the soft, super sensitive spot behind her ears, Valentina oh-so-easily turns into a hot, whimpering, melty-kneed _mess_.

 

#21 **Life**

Valentina cannot survive without Juliana, does not even want to _try_ surviving without her, and maybe some people would think that an unhealthy, melodramatic attitude toward a relationship,something to be tamed and tempered, but this? This is not just _any_ relationship; Juliana is the absolute love of her life, her soulmate, her greatest passion, and Valentina doesn’t give a fuck if others think it is unhealthy because neither she nor Juliana have ever, _ever_ been happier or healthier.

 

#07 **Chocolate**

“This is a perfect moment,” Valentina sighs happily, lavishing in the steaming bath water and bubbles and Juliana’s naked softness at her back, “but you know what would make it even more perfect? Chocolate-covered strawberries, oh my god,” and Juliana laughs, nuzzling her cheek against Valentina’s temple, making a mental note of this endearing little whim for future reference...

 

#08 **Happiness**

Valentina giggles as Juliana steers her this way and that, trusting her implicitly from behind the blindfold, Juliana’s guiding hands warm on her hips, until they finally come to a stop at their destination, the sweet warm smell of tropical fruit filling her senses, and the blindfold is gently removed, revealing the bath tub, steaming and almost overflowing with bubbles, and, perched on the edge, a bowl of chocolate-dipped strawberries, fat and fresh: “Happy September fourteenth,” Juliana whispers, smiling against the curve of Valentina’s neck, and Valentina does not stop laughing and kissing her for two minutes straight.

 

#02 **Kiss**

Although Valentina has turned her back on alcohol as a coping mechanism, she still indulges at social events (because she does, after all, enjoy being the life and soul of any party) but with her beautiful Juliana by her side watching over her she has better control of herself, knows when enough’s enough - well, usually; sometimes she slips on particularly raucous nights, and pouts when Juliana gently confiscates that fifth or sixth glass of the good stuff, but it works in her favour really because Juliana can never resist Valentina when she pouts, and the resulting kisses, sweet and placating, are far more intoxicating than any damn alcohol Valentina could put to her lips.

 

#04 **Pain**

“Juls, when we meet in the next life, I hope we’re just, I don’t know, simple dairymaids living simple lives - no guns, no cartels, no weird transmigratory magic and mean ex-boyfriends... after everything we’ve been through in this life, all the pain, don’t you think our reincarnated selves deserve peace and quiet and all the nice things?”

 

#33 **Fear**

Things are supposed to be better now, no more violence, no more villains, but Valentina still flinches sometimes at the sound of gunfire in movies and on television, flashing back to that dreadful day when she was held hostage in her own home, and Juliana still hates herself for her part in those memories - if only she had been stronger, if only she had not walked away from Valentina that day, Val would not have been caught up in all that mess, would not have to remember the cold press of a gun to her head, but what’s done is done; all Juliana can do is reassure and comfort Valentina the best she can, taking solace in the fact that Val doesn’t blame her one bit.

 

#27 **Blood**

“It’s nothing, Val, just a scratch,” Juliana insists, even as she winces and protectively cups her wounded fingertips to her chest, blood tricking down her hand and wrist, but Valentina apologises again, again, again, making a huge fuss cleaning and bandaging the cuts - perhaps distracting her defenceless Juliana with neck-kisses and chilly fingers against her warm bare thighs while she was slicing mango for breakfast was not her _brightest_ idea.

 

#23 **Hands**

They have had the house all to themselves all day, yet they have spent the whole day in Valentina’s bed, loving each other to boneless and blissful exhaustion, but, even sated, Valentina cannot keep her hands to herself and gently trails her fingers over the valleys and planes of Juliana’s body (simply for her own pleasure, not to arouse) smiling at every poorly suppressed shiver and squirm, and brushing the softest of kisses to the goosebumps rising at her delicate caress.

 

#41 **Completion**

“Looks like you don’t need me anymore,” Valentina teases, watching Juliana confidently swim her third full length of the pool, the water glittering prettily under the midday sun, “you’re a professional now; next stop the Olympics, then dolphins, sharks, the Catalina Channel - I’m surplus to requirements,” and Juliana rewards her sass with an armful of water directly to Valentina’s giggling face.

 

#22 **Jealousy**

Jealousy made a monster of Lucho, made him seethe and spit like a feral cat half-mad with starvation, and Valentina hated it, god she _hated_ it, but when that same toxic emotion flares inJuliana - and it does often enough, though Valentina never deliberately gives her reason to feel anything of the sort (she always turns down strangers’ offers to buy her a drink and ignores admiring stares when she notices them) it is subtle, a beautiful tension: a tight handhold or possessive arm around the waist - no arguments, no accusations, just a quiet show of physical affection that makes Valentina’s heart swell with love.

 

#40 **Innocence**

Juliana is stunned when Valentina, soft and shy, asks if she was happy with their first time:“I didn’t seduce you, you know, not... knowingly... did you feel seduced? Because if I did anything, _anything_ , to make you uncomfortable - ” she stammers, heartbreakingly vulnerable, and Juliana feels a twinge of fiery anger at her mother for seeding such damaging, insecure thoughts in her girlfriend’s head.

 

#28 **Sickness**

 _Love_ _isn’t_ _a_ _perversion_ : Juliana’s fierce statement rings loud in Valentina’s ears, her heart, her soul, but Lupe’s rage and disgust is louder, a screeching siren drowning out tinkling bells, and Valentina cannot bear it.

 

#32 **Confusion**

Juliana hates violence, carries a whole childhood of memories filled with almost nothing but aggression and intimidation thanks to that rat bastard Chino, and she has made every effort possible to avoid it, but the moment she walks into Valentina’s house and sees Lucho’s arm wrapped securely around her beautiful (beautiful what? friend? girlfriend? what even are they anymore?) _friend_ , she sees nothing but red, red red _red_ , and she suddenly understands why some people resort to screaming and grabbing and throwing punches when things get too much for them, because there is nothing in the world she wants more than to scream and grab and punch Lucho, punch him until his face is raw unrecognisable pulp (but she doesn’t, of course; she walks away, because Juliana’s good at that, isn’t she, walking away from Valentina, and she’s getting better at it every day).

 

#37 **Technology**

Every phone call, every text message Juliana does not answer is a knife-twist to Valentina’s lovesickened heart.

 

#46 **Sun**

Valentina looks at Juliana like she cradles the sun itself in the palm of her hand, as if she alone gives life and light to everything in the world, keeping at bay the cold and the darkness that has consumed Valentina for too long, too long.

 

Fini


End file.
